


Xperiences

by Sehrezad



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas, Clarice just wants to help the kids, F/M, First Kiss, Gen, Thunderblink, it's not complicated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-07 19:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13441956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sehrezad/pseuds/Sehrezad
Summary: Little stand-alone ThunderBlink one shots that became too long to fit into my other collection, "Variations on a Theme", but are too short to be considered a complete story.





	1. Chapter 1

Clarice was fuming as she strode to John's office.

"Take down the decorations, he says," she mimicked the man's voice with an irritated expression. "That insensitive son of a bitch. Who does he think he is? The fucking Grinch?"

People were literally jumping out of her way but she was paying no attention. Her focus was solely concentrated on giving John a piece of her mind.

She'd just found little Tommy whimpering behind a couch, his older sister sitting next to him, looking disappointed.

It turned out that John had told the kids, who'd been preparing for Christmas for weeks, to stop fooling around with their silly diversion. There were other, more important things to concentrate on, he said. Taking the little boy into her arms, she looked around for Caitlin. They were both helping the children prepare for the holidays. She didn't have to look for too long. She found her in a busy conversation with some of the older kids, no doubt facing the same problem as Clarice was.

Suddenly hot anger filled her. How dare he trample on the children's enthusiasm? Had he even noticed how happy the kids were, for once not dwelling on all the turmoil around them.

Her momentum, however, slowly ebbed as she neared the hole that John called his office. Even from a distance the man looked exhausted, permanent worry-lines settling on his face.

Clarice felt a momentary pang of guilt – the last thing he needed was for someone to berate him for doing his job. It didn't change the fact, though, that what he'd done was just simply wrong… and irrational. Most probably due to the stress he'd been under lately, Clarice reasoned as she came to a stop by his door.

"Kids told me that Grinch stole Christmas," she started with considerably less bravado and more teasing than she had originally planned.

John sighed tiredly, apparently not in the mood. Too bad, Clarice shook her head slightly and walked up to his desk, perching herself on the edge of it, facing him. She was there on a mission and she would not back down: she had to get Christmas back for the kids. She would not let his grumpiness ruin the children's holiday.

"Want to tell me why's the sour mood?" She crossed her arms on her chest.

"I'm not in a sour mood," John denied, leaning back in his chair. Clarice raised an eyebrow. "I just don't think that the children – and anybody, really – should be running around like they have no care in the world and making the HQ look like it's the damned North Pole in the process. Just because it's Christmas, the treat is still out there. The kids should really act accordingly."

"On the contrary. What kind of joy do they have these days? Let them have this, John. They need it. And you need it, too."

"I certainly don't need this madness."

"Of course, you do." Clarice grinned at him, pushing away from the desk. "A little Christmas spirit would make you feel better. I promise."

"I really don't nee…" Whatever he had wanted to say died on his lips as Clarice sealed them with hers. It took the wind out of his sails all right.

For a moment he was frozen and Clarice feared that she'd crossed a line but then John's hands grabbed her waist and pulled her into his lap as he reciprocated the unexpected kiss.

"Whatever was that for?" John breathed still surprised when they parted. Clarice noticed, though, that his hands did not move from her behind.

"I saw a mistletoe in the doorway." She smiled nonchalantly.

"There's no mistletoe in the doorway."

"Maybe I saw it somewhere else," she shrugged before kissing him again. "Does it really matter?"

"Guess not."

"So are you feeling the Christmas spirit yet?" Clarice grinned at him.

"Maybe..." he looked contemplative for a second before he turned mischevious eyes on her. "I need a little more coaxing."

"Anything for the kids."


	2. Uncomplicated

Life was hard, John pondered as he stood leaning against the doorframe of his tiny room.

It was a constant fight. For mutants, even more so than before.

And, man, they were doing a lot of fighting.

They were fighting human prejudice and fear that was constantly increasing. They were fighting their own friends simply because, although they could agree on the  _what_ , they could not agree on the  _how_. And they were fighting for their lives on a daily basis.

And amidst all that fight, everything was so uncertain.

Most of the days, it was difficult to decide what was right or wrong… who was friend or foe.

And in the hectic life they were leading, it was not an easy task to ponder the difference… to make the right decisions.

There was simply no time for it.

Everything was oh-so complicated.

There was that word again. John flinched at the thought.

He remembered clearly the conversation when he couldn't give Clarice a straight answer to a simple question, claiming that things were complicated.

How wrong he was!

Behind all those crazy things that made life so incredibly difficult, there was a fragment of his life that, against all odds, remained simple and uncomplicated.

It was his life with Clarice.

Ironic, wasn't it? He shook his head as he took in the peacefully sleeping form of the woman in their bed.

In the light of the rising sun, after countless arguments with various members of the Underground and an excruciatingly long shift of night watch, just watching her being so peaceful made his world feel right again.

It was so easy to leave all the madness behind and just concentrate on her.

After cutting all the bullshit, everything was so endearingly simple with her.

And to think that they had almost lost it all.

" _I'm not gonna worry about why I feel what I feel. Doesn't really matter now, does it?"_

" _No. Not now."_

There was so much going on. Their growing feelings seemed so insignificant.

Until they didn't. Until it became the only thing that he could count on without questioning it.

In the wake of the split of the Underground, he lost so many friends. He lost his best friend with whom he had started it all... with whom he shared a common dream.

Lorna was fed up with their current situation and all the hatred and injustice that surrounded them so she went off to go from defensive to offensive. He could understand her, really. And he would be a hypocrite if he had claimed that he did not agree with her on some level. But he refused to believe that violence was the only option.

He still believed what the X-Men had taught him. And he would stand by it.

And he did not have to do it alone.

Clarice had chosen the same fight.

" _I thought you don't believe in the pacifist way anymore."_

" _I believe in you."_

He still found himself dumbstruck by the fact that she had chosen to stay with him. To fight with him… to be with him.

He loved her and she loved him. At the end, there was nothing really complicated about it.

"Are you gonna just stand there and watch me pretending to sleep, or you're coming to bed at last?"

Clarice sleepy voice pulled him out of his musings and he smiled as he pushed himself away from the doorframe.

As he pulled back the covers and wrapped himself around Clarice, he felt truly at peace, the world and his life outside that tiny room fading away just for a little while.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Love

John watched as Clarice was making her rounds among the refugees, giving advice, answering questions or just having a kind word for everybody. A soft smile was playing on his lips in spite of all the horror they'd just gone through.

He was so proud of her.

He was so grateful that she was still there with him.

They had lost so many people.

It tore his heart out that they could not save everybody.

"Oh, to be young and in love again." An old man sat down next to him with a smile as he turned to join him in watching the purple-haired woman.

"Mr. Osborne," John acknowledged the old man with a tentative nod.

"You've got quite a lady there," he observed appreciatively.

"That's right," John's face lit up with a proud smile.

The man smiled with him.

"I just wanted to say thank you," he said finally.

"For what?" John was sincerely stunned. There was nothing to be thankful for… not that day.

"For helping us," was the simple reply. Guilt ran over John's face. There was so much loss. "None of that, young man," Mr. Osborne silenced John before he could have voiced his thoughts. "I may be old but I am by no means blind. And I am not an idiot, either. I understand all the sacrifice you all make here just to be able to help people you do not even know. And I do not know whether you hear it enough… we are grateful for that. I am grateful for that."

"I just wish we could do more… that we could have done more."

"Nonsense," the man dismissed his concern. "You sound like you owe us something. If anything… we owe you. All of you. You came to our help when nobody could… or would. All that terrible things that happened today, they are not on your shoulders," the man explained. "Now, be a good chap and accept my sincere thank you without protest."

John nodded with a chastised smile.

"Good," the man nodded and looked down at his hands which held – as John noticed for the first time – a little package. "And now… I would like you to have this." He pressed it into John's hand.

Stunned, John took it and when the man nodded, he opened the little piece of cloth. "But they are…"

"Wear them when you feel ready." Mr. Osborne smiled.

"I… we can't accept them," John straightened. "These are your wedding rings."

"I am very well aware of that."

"They are all what you've got from your wife," John continued not ready to deprive the man of something so precious as the rings that symbolize his promise of love and respect to his wife he had just lost not a day ago. "You surely…"

"Stop right there, young man." John felt like a little boy as he held the old man's amused gaze. "I have spent fifty-six wonderful years with my wife… Those rings are just one of the memories I have of her. And I have plenty of them, let me assure you. With or without them, I will love her and remember fondly of our days spent together. However, it would give me great joy – and to Martha, as well, I am sure – to know that a loving couple wears them from now on."

"I don't know what to say."

"Well, say 'I love you' to that lovely lady of yours as much as you can because believe me, fifty-six years are not nearly enough time. Love her and treasure her. She'll make everything worthwhile. You'll see." The man patted him on the back before slowly standing up. John was still speechless as Mr. Osborne gave him an encouraging nod before walking away.

He looked down at the rings, still stunned by the presence of them in his hand. Slowly, an honest-to-God smile lit up his previously troubled features and he looked up at Clarice, who caught his gaze and smiled back at him. John wrapped up the rings, stuck them into his jeans pocket and stood to walk up to her and tell her just how much he loved her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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